


The Braime Bunch

by Isola_Caramella



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2018-12-04 17:09:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11559675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isola_Caramella/pseuds/Isola_Caramella
Summary: This is born from one of my favorite Weirdo's ficlets and the Nik interview. There is no abuse in the actual fic but it is very much implied.I'm not a great kid fic writer so you are forewarned.As always a girl owns nothing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [december13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/december13/gifts), [WeirdDaydreamingFangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdDaydreamingFangirl/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Drabble of Earth and Water](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501389) by [WeirdDaydreamingFangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdDaydreamingFangirl/pseuds/WeirdDaydreamingFangirl). 



> This is born from one of my favorite Weirdo's ficlets and the Nik interview. There is no abuse in the actual fic but it is very much implied. 
> 
> I'm not a great kid fic writer so you are forewarned. 
> 
> As always a girl owns nothing.

Warning bells went off in Brienne's head as she watched Pod flinch away from the man kneeling down beside him; she was on her feet and hauling herself across the park with no thought to the bag she was leaving on the bench. Her heart was galloping faster than her feet and it took an act of the gods to not push the man as far away from Podrick as she could.

A small girl is grabbing Pod before Brienne can reach him, holding him tightly while he tries to hold still and stop shaking. The man sends one of his sons away with his car key and walks to intercept Brienne when he catches the murderous intent on her face.

“It's okay,” the little girl soothes Pod as her small fingers rub his back, “Mr. Jaime isn't like that, it's okay.”

When she pulls away, the front of her dress and Pod’s shorts are soaked through and Brienne's stomach churns, if the bastard wasn't already dead, Ilyn Payne would have felt her wrath all over again. Silent tears fall down his face as the man tries to pull Brienne away from him and get her attention, rage making her body contract and her fists clench.

“It was an accident, he and Lew bumped into each other, nothing more. He didn't do anything wrong.” He's looking at her like a bug on a windshield, as though he thought she was the one, it was absurd.

“I know it was an accident, why did you raise your hand to him?" Brienne rasped, thinking of all the silent hours he spent in therapy staring at Elder Brother with haunted eyes.

“I was just going to touch his shoulder. Lew’s iPad fell when they clashed, it was just an accident and I have a dragonbox on there, I just wanted him to know it was okay, he looked scared.”

“I, oh, thank you, he's…I'm sorry,” the fight had drained out of her as quickly as it had risen, the two boys prodding Podrick to follow them as the older one tucked a change of clothes under his arm.

Pod looked back at her briefly, and Brienne nodded to let him know she was there, he was safe. She wished, not for the first time, that her father was still alive, his calm, accepting presence would have been beneficial for her small foster son. Tarth would have been beneficial and Brienne thought of her empty family house sitting unoccupied on the hill.

“No worries, Jaime Lannister, my three are Peck, Pia and my little ambling wight is Lew. How about you?” He turned inquisitive emerald eyes on her and it made Brienne think of one of her patients from years ago.

“Do you have a brother?” Brienne asks cocking her head to see why he would put her in the mind of a six pound baby.

“You know Tyrion?” His amused smirk hints at sibling love, something she could see in other people and remember vividly of a time when she had a sibling.

“Know him? No, but I helped deliver his daughter, six pounds even. Lelia, Lelia Lannister, you have the same eyes. He sent us Winterfest dinner that year.” Brienne remembers that he'd showered his wife with every flower in the hospital and then she'd found him crying in a stairwell, swollen red eyes and a look teetering between disbelief and elation.

“The pride of the King’s Landing branch of the Rock, no bigger than her father but rules with the golden fist of her grandfather. We do share the same eyes, it's a very Lannister trait.” He almost preened at being compared to his niece, a stab of not quite longing and regret giving Brienne pause as her dead brother and sisters flitter in front of her eyes.

“Right, I should go check on Podrick. How will I return the shorts to you?” She would have time in her schedule next week at the earliest, tomorrow was fencing practice for Pod and kickboxing for her.

“Are you leaving? They haven't finished with Wyverns GO just yet, apparently there is a swamp wyvern in this spot, that's why Lew crashed into Podrick, he wanted it for himself. And don't worry about the shorts.”

“No, I'll send them back to you, thank you.”

Podrick came out then, the girl, Pia, still clutching his hand protectively and saying something low so that only he could hear. Her brothers not far behind with Podrick’s wet shorts in a bag and matching somber looks, the older one, Peck, walked behind Pod like a small soldier, ready to vanquish any approaching enemies. Brienne dropped to her knees as he approached, watching his defeated shoulders slump forward as he stands in front of her. In place of Ilyn Payne, the idiot who had placed Pod with his diabolical cousin would have been a close second on her kill list.

“Hey, better?” Brienne asked gently, careful not to touch him just yet.

“So-sorry sir, miss, uh Brienne.” He stammered out, Pia’s fingers squeezing his in quiet support.

“It was an accident, there's nothing to be sorry for. Are you hungry?”

“Can we sit on the bench?” Pia interjected, “Please?”

“Sure.” Brienne didn't have maternal instincts but she remembered what her world had been like at that age, Pod had no friends and she knew how crushing the absence of friends could be. Fumbling through parenting was easier than fumbling through her own adolescence with only her father and a love of books. It would be wrong to deny him a few moments with children his own age.

Belatedly she catches sight of her bag, left unattended and ripe for the picking if anyone had been inclined. The park was starting to fill up with the early evening joggers and dog walkers, a few other families out with phones and tablets trying to catch wyverns. The fever pitch of Wyvern GO was mostly over, the hospital had issued memos during the height of its popularity to not play during working hours, but it had been the first thing that brought Podrick out of his shell for a space of more than five minutes, so she'd latched on like a starving man to a side of boar.

Lew and Peck were meandering over the park to find their swamp wyvern, letting out a whoop of success when they found him again. Her scar pulled as a small smile tried to fix itself on her face, she wanted that for Pod one day.

“Are you hungry? There's a Pentoshi truck up front, I can grab something for everyone.” Jaime asked, waiting expectantly for a reply.

“Oh no, thank you. Your children are lovely.”

“Ha, give it time. They'll hate each other again by the time they're buckled into their seats. Lew will annoy the living shit out of Peck, Peck will ignore him until he cries and Pia will try to melt into the door to get away from both of them until we make it home. She hasn't been with me as long as the boys.”

  
“They're not yours? I mean biologically, gods sorry, that's, I didn't mean.” Brienne stops herself before she can dig the hole any further down, heat licking up her neck and face.

“It's okay, I know what you mean. They are mine, Peck and Lew I adopted first, and I'm still waiting on Pia to be eligible for adoption, until then I'm legally her foster parent.”

The small girl was sitting cross legged next to Pod in front of the bench, hair tucked behind her ears and listening as Pod talked, out loud by the looks of it, and Brienne felt a zing shoot through her. The first tear was followed by a second and third until she tried to discreetly wipe her face.

“You said they have a Pentoshi truck?”

“Best honey soy chicken in Westeros.”

“I think we’ll stay for a little while longer.”

They stayed until Pod and Lew were full and falling asleep in their arms, the sun finally going down after eight o’clock. Brienne almost greedily took Jaime Lannister’s number, savoring the quiet happiness Pod exuded after his afternoon spent mostly with Pia. If they could meet again even once more, it would be enough. Elder Brother would say this was a stepping stone across a wide river and worthy of praise, Brienne had to agree, her steps felt lighter than they had in a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> manaerzi is high valyrian third person; my rough translation is We Rise/ We Lift and is the closest ASOIAF word I could shoe horn in that sounds like Montessori

“Bad day?” Jaime asks, knowing Pia has been in her room alone in the dark since Mrs. Westerling picked them up from school. As much as Pia plastered a brave smile on her face, it was hard to keep up with. Jaime knew about swallowing down hurt and living in a state of denial. Recognizing it far easier in his daughter than he'd ever recognized it in himself.

It takes her a moment to gather her thoughts, her usual quick wit and cheer buried under a cloud of gloom. “Everyone is different from me, I don't belong there.”

“How are they different?” Jaime asks, wondering, not for the first time, if this school is right for her.

“They're making Winterfest lists and planning ski trips. I don't know where I'll be.” Pia says with uncertainty.

“You'll be at home, with your brothers, your uncle Tyrion, with me. You'll be home with your family. I can't promise a ski trip but I can promise you'll get at least one present from your Winterfest list. What else is it?” He knows there's more to her sadness than writing Winterfest lists and happy preteens.

“They all know. About what I did.” She mumbles, turning on her back and staring up at the ceiling.

“No one knows anything,” Jaime promises, knowing that all records of her life before are sealed. Pia's real name changed to Jeyne Rivers on any legal documents. “The only thing anyone at your school knows is that I'm your dad. And you didn't do anything Pia.”

He waits until she's fallen into a fitful sleep to back out of her room. Peck and Lew already asleep on the couch, to dig around for the therapist Brienne referred him to months ago. The boys had been a different experience, orphans with few problems other than the uncertainty of where home would be. He could admit he was out of his depth with his daughter. As happy and optimistic as Pia naturally was, that had been severely affected by her mother's relationship with a pedophile. She needed help and Jaime realized a small all girl’s school was only a drop in the bucket of what needed to be done. Making an appointment to allow her to talk to neutral third party seeming like a better idea every day.

  
The Elder Brother is a tall man, his head large and jaw squared, shrewd eyes take Jaime in. He looks like a man made to break bones more than heal minds, Jaime thinks as he takes a seat in the blue chair across from an almost empty desk. A worn copy of The Seven-Pointed Star sits on a corner with a small recording device resting on top of it. Jaime listens as the man explains his therapy methods, noting the calm demeanor, a trait he knows Pia will need.

“Mr. Lannister, I look forward to meeting your daughter. I hope I'm able to help her and you.” Elder Brother says in a soothing voice. “It will not be easy, I have to tell you that up front, but it is worth it.”

As he's driving through the congested streets of downtown King’s Landing, Jaime sends out a SOS to his brother and Brienne, pizza at his place, on a school night. It's bad parenting according to the mommy blogs he's scoured since Peck’s first night but he doesn't care, he needs this as much as Pia. If it were only him he'd sink into barbed jests and indifference. Jaime now needs the few people he considered friends. Tyrion to keep his spirits buoyed. Brienne's stubborn adherence to doing the right thing was useful to gauge how good or bad an idea was.

Brienne thinks pizza on a school night is a great idea. Jaime can tell by the gratitude in her bright blue eyes. He joins her on the blue sofa while they wait for Tyrion to show. It's unfair but Jaime unburdens his troubles on Brienne as they eat.

“Maybe try a different school. Girls can be a special brand of hell. Especially ones with the added assurance of their line in the pecking order. They'll know Pia isn't one of them. Even at this age.”

It's not the response Jaime wants, but it's better than anything he's likely to get asking Tyrion.

“It's a small girl's school, every family there has family that has been going there for the last two hundred years.”

“Yes, and Pia doesn't have that history. Small is good. Try leaving out the elite part and go from there. I looked at a Manaerzi* school for Podrick. It's small and hands on and they go at their own pace, she can get her footing easier that way.”

“Is that where Pod’s going?”

“Uh, no. It was too much for him right now. We’re going to homeschool. Which I don't know the first thing about. I'll probably be terrible at it too.”

Jaime doubts it. In the months that he's known Brienne, he’s seen how single-minded she can be about doing things the right way. No short cuts and with too much optimism in other people doing the right thing. He sighs, getting up to throw away their empty box and check on the unusually quiet foursome. Jaime finds four heads together sorting their most precious Wyvern cards, all problems momentarily forgotten.

It's a small victory and enough to assuage his guilt over keeping them awake. Jaime's knows in the morning when everyone is miserable he’ll curse his impulsiveness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard for me to stay in tense, apologies in advance. I try to catch it when I proofread but it happens.

High Road turnpike was slick with snow and Brienne was sure a few patches of black ice. She was grateful again to Jaime for lending her his SUV for the long drive to the Vale. Pod had fallen asleep after they crossed through Saltpans, his valiant effort to keep her company waning under miles of the King’s Road interstate.

They were both on edge, the call from social services a shock. But here she was, keeping a promise to a woman dead going on two years. Catelyn had been her nursing preceptor when Brienne was fresh out of nursing school, awkward, afraid of failure and not immune to the scrutiny of patients. Catelyn had taken her under her wings, not overtly maternal but the closest to a maternal bond as Brienne would ever dare hope for. More than anything, Catelyn had believed her capable and Brienne had been grateful. That gratitude had led her to promise Catelyn she would be there for her children if they ever needed it.

It's late when Brienne pulls into the parking lot for the department of children and families, her back and shoulders coiled with tension. All Mya Stone could tell her over the phone was there was an issue with the children's current living situation and they needed to be placed in foster care. With no word back from Catelyn’s brother, Sansa had given them the only other name she knew.

Mya is taller than Brienne expected, short dark hair and blue eyes that seemed weary. The walk to her office is long, pictures of children and cookie cutter adoptive families lining the corridors. Pod’s fingers slip into her hand as his eyes swing from his shoes to the pictures and to the back of Mya’s head. She can't imagine what he's thinking of, her own mind racing over a thousand different possibilities.

Brienne thinks of her last conversation with Catelyn before leaving Riverlands General to a better position in King’s Landing. The loss of her husband and eldest son had weighed heavily on her, four children, one a baby, all left for her to shoulder alone. Catelyn had been resolute but time wasn't on her side. The cancer lancing through her swift and merciless, no time to do more than say goodbye.

“Thank you for getting here so quickly Ms. Tarth. Sansa was unsure if you would come. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. We stopped for a bite when we came off the turnpike. Is everything alright?”

“We had to place the children in emergency care yesterday while we looked for another relative or a foster placement. Sansa gave your name and their uncle was listed but he has not been in contact. With you already in the system and background checked it was easier to find your contact information."

Because of Pod, Brienne thinks.

"I won't bull, uh, beat around the bush Ms. Tarth, they need somewhere to go for at least three months and they don't want to be separated. I can find placement for Rickon easy enough, everyone wants children five and under. Bran will be easier than his sisters, but the girls are older and more at risk if I put them in a group home setting. That's worse case scenario, I don't have anyone right now willing to take in a sibling group of four, in a few months one could open but there's no guarantee.”

“Are, you want me to take them?” The dread that started in King's Landing settles into her stomach.

Brienne mentally goes through her house, three bedrooms, her bedroom, Pod’s bedroom and the converted office and classroom. No backyard to speak of, the small kitchen, her two seater kitchen table. Six people aren't meant for her townhouse, the violent need to find a bathroom makes her stomach churn.

“That's what they want yes but you have a choice. You have a child in your care already and you're a young woman, no one will fault you. I work in the best interest of the children, keeping them together is my priority but I'm not unreasonable. Four children is asking a great deal.” Mya’s voice is clipped, the tone level and professional. The same voice Brienne uses in the emergency room.

“Pod, can you wait in the hallway for a moment?” Brienne waits for the door to click shut behind him, her large hand holding the sides of the chair, “what happened?”

“The aunt’s new husband tried to kiss Sansa and instead of calling the police she called me to have Sansa removed. Said she was causing problems and disrupting the family. Apparently there was family history with this guy, Baelish. He claims he came home intoxicated and thought it was Sansa's mother. It's such bullshit, I'm working on that issue with the police. The aunt is digging in and has already bailed him out of jail.”

“I have to talk to Pod first, this affects him too.”

Brienne wonders the next morning, what she's doing. Four black trash bags are in the back of Jaime's SUV and five drained children are buckled into their seats as she makes the exit from the turnpike onto the King’s Road interstate. Her three day request off from work will need to be extended, her bank account taking the first of many hits when she'd purchased the child seat for Rickon.

A mental checklist of new beds, clothes, and increased food budget for six people run in a loop. Her fridge now only contained the bare minimum for two people. She'd need to enroll them in school. It had been for Catelyn but the grateful look on her children’s faces at the strange woman from their mother's funeral was enough to keep Brienne afloat. At least for the drive home.

Her townhouse’s shortcomings magnify in her mind as the Stark children take in their new quarters. It's not their big house in Winterfell or their aunt’s opulent mansion in the Vale but Brienne reckons  it has to better than the bunk beds in the group home they'd had to stay in. At least with her, they are all together.

Sansa stays with the children so that Brienne can return Jaime's car, the wide driveway housed her now useless sedan. There was no way she could carry all of them in her car. Jaime bounds languidly down the steps, his sardonic smile replaced with something Brienne can't place. Maybe pity or concern.

“You okay? You didn't answer any of my texts.”

Everything comes out then, leaned against the driver’s door under the orange and pink sky. Brienne’s promise to Catelyn no longer an extemporaneous offer of support but four living, breathing children that needed a modicum of stability. Half of their family dead and the four of them shuttling from Winterfell after their father and brother’s deaths to the Vale after their mothers and now stuck in a cramped hovel in King's Landing with a stranger. It made her head hurt. Jaime's firm grasp on her arm is a brief comfort. His ability to listen an even better one.

“Keep the car, as long you need it.”

“Jaime, I can't keep your car.”

“I have two more, keep it. Consider it yours for now.”

“I'll pay the insurance.”

Jaime laughed. “Brienne, I don't pay the insurance. Tyrion bought these through a fleet sale for the company and the insurance is a business expense. Just keep the car.”

Tomorrow there would be time to worry. Tonight she watches the Stark children huddle in her bed under her mother's old quilt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the kudos and comments. This is a lot more angsty than I originally envisioned. I love my fluff for a reason :)


	4. Chapter 4

Jaime watches from the kitchen security cameras as all eight kids play in the pool. Peck and Lew are helping little Rickon figure out the new slide they’d convinced Jaime to install. The two babysitters-cum-lifeguards he’s hired for the day are sitting on opposite ends, alert and taking their jobs quite seriously. Though not officially a name day party, Brienne planned the get together weeks ago, not knowing that she’d be stuck with a double shift at the hospital.

They had settled into a tentative share of duties when the initial three months of fostering had come, gone and come round again. Summer and school breaks were on the horizon and Tyrion graciously told Jaime to piss off until school started in the fall. Lion Air didn’t need him, Brienne did. For Tyrion, that was all it boiled down to.

The oven timer dings as the first head peeks into the kitchen, Lew and his bottomless stomach perch on the nearest stool, eyes wide and mouth open waiting on the onion beef sliders Brienne said weren’t kid friendly.

He smugly sends thumbs up pictures from each of the children, even Rickon, and then a picture of him in a ‘kiss the chef’ apron. He doubts she’ll see any of them before leaving the hospital, following rules was as ingrained into her being as her freckles. Her only concession had been to call during a break to tell him to give Sansa her gift. The ER was flooded with patients after a boating accident on Blackwater Rush, and Brienne had pleaded with him to make sure Sansa enjoyed the day.

If the sticky hugs and sleepy eyes were an indication, he could consider the day a success. The last babysitter is bounding down the steps when Brienne’s car pulls up the driveway, her hair falling in her face, in desperate need of a cut. Jaime ignores the pulling in his chest and nods instead, safe, neutral and less likely to land him on his ass. He’s seen her right hook before.

“I’m too tired to say I’m sorry Jaime, but I am.”

“You can keep it. They loved my lunch, despite your best protests.”

“Who feeds children onion beef sliders? What happened to plain cheeseburgers or hot dogs?”

Jaime shivers at the thought of Tywin allowing his parade of septas to feed the Lannisters anything but the most premium cut of meats.

“I’ll have you know they are kid tested and Tyrion approved. I even shopped at the regular market instead of going to the specialty butchers.”

Brienne snorts, the antiseptic smell of the hospital clinging to her as they fall into step. Well earned quiet enveloping then as she looks for young charges.

“Did you lock them in the cellar? It’s unnaturally quiet in here,” Brienne says as she kicks of her shoes and looks back at Jaime. Her eyes are tired and drooping.

“Asleep. All of them. Snoring, full and happy.” Jaime tries to keep his smugness low but it’s hard. By the roll of Brienne’s eyes, he could have tried harder. Instead, he ushers her to the kitchen and warm hot chocolate. He’d learn from Arya two months ago that she’d wanted to try a restaurant downtown just for the hot chocolate but refused to spend the thirty gold dragons for it.

Arya was the only Stark that believed Jaime had not purposefully pushed Bran off a hedge wall in his yard in the first months. It had taken reserves of patience he couldn’t fathom he possessed to not tell them their brother was asking for it. Who climbs hedge walls? Arya had later confided in him about the time Bran climbed the side of their house in Winterfell and tumbled off. She’s been his favorite Stark since.

“Gods, Jaime what’s in this? My bones feel melty.”

“Melty? Is that new medical terminology?”

“You know what I mean, you should warned me. I can’t drive like this.” She’s chastising him but humming happily at the same time.

“I borrowed the recipe from a restaurant. It calls for cognac but the only cognac in my possession is an old one father bought at auction. I take it that it’s very strong. I only put a shot in.”

“Prescription strength strong. I think this will do. It did the trick, thank you. I’ll sleep through anything now. What are you doing?”

“Pressing my luck?” With one hand there’s less of a flourish but Jaime wagers seeing food that isn’t hospital food is enough, “you have to try at least one.”

Jaime waits for her to finish the first slider, inexplicably happy that Brienne is an open book. Happier when the empty plate slides back to him without a word. He leans in to mock her earlier insistence that he’d once again over done it at the same time Brienne turns to him, her full lips running along his jawline.Jaime knows Brienne enough to give her room but stay close. Her embarrassed gaze wavers between his jaw and the marble counter, red crawls up from her chest to her face.

“T-that was an accident,” Brienne breaths out.

“Anything to not tell me how wrong you were about my wonderful food choice.”

 The gratitude that washes over her is enough to know he made the right decision.


End file.
